It Feels Like Christmas
by Dragonfly-Moonlight
Summary: G1. The Autobots celebrate their first Christmas on Earth, but Ironhide's feeling a little putout.


"But Prime!"

"Ironhide, relax. I'm sure we can manage without you for a few days," Optimus Prime said gently. "Besides, the Decepticons have been quiet for a while now and you could use a break."

Ironhide sighed, a habit he was quickly picking up from the humans. It'd been an argument he'd been having with Optimus for a few breems now and was quickly losing. "I still don't like it, Prime," he objected. "And I don't think it's necessary. I'm sure . . ."

"My decision is final, Ironhide. You're hereby on leave as of right this moment."

Ironhide nearly scowled at that and stalked out of the command center. To say he wasn't happy about this development would have been an understatement, but he also knew that there was nothing he could do about it. He was officially on leave and had to find something to do with himself in the meantime.

As he walked out of the command center, Ironhide noticed Spike and Chip talking with Bumblebee and Windcharger. He saw that Spike was showing them something.

"That's really neat, Spike! Where'd you get it?"

"My dad gave it to me last year for Christmas," Spike replied. As Ironhide walked by, he noticed Spike was holding a very small, very oddly shaped piece of metal. Spike looked up at him as he approached.

"Hey, Ironhide," the young human grinned. Bumblebee, Chip, and Windcharger looked up at him as well. "What's up?"

Ironhide bit back a snappy reply to the human. After all, it wasn't Spike that he was angry with. It wasn't even Optimus that he was upset with but more the idea of being on leave for any kind of reason. He never even liked being on leave before they left Cybertron and he had a reason then . . .

Ironhide immediately sobered when the thought of Chromia came to his mind. He hadn't meant to think about her, had sworn to himself that he would forget about her, but he ended up doing so anyway. They had not parted on the best of terms, and had said some very nasty things to each other. They were things that he now regretted saying.

"Ironhide?"

Ironhide nearly blinked, almost startled at hearing Spike's voice but he quickly composed himself.

"Yeah, Spike?"

"You okay?"

"Fine. Never better. Why?"

"Because you stormed out of Prime's office then instantly became somber," Spike answered slowly.

"It's nothing, Spike," Ironhide shook his head. "Whatcha got there?"

"It's a Christmas ornament my dad gave me," the boy enthused. "He had my name and the year engraved on it."

"What do you do with it?" Bumblebee asked.

"Well, some people hang them in their windows, others on their trees, and some just keep them tucked away for safe-keeping."

"What are you going to do with yours?" Windcharger inquired.

"Well, when Dad gets the tree, we're going to hang it there, along with the other decorations."

Ironhide frowned at this. The concept of getting a tree to hang decorations on seemed rather ridiculous.

"Why would you want to put decorations on a tree?" Ironhide said aloud. "What's the point? Wouldn't someone steal them?"

"No," Spike laughed a little. "We take certain kinds of trees and put them in our houses to decorate."

"Why?"

"It's a tradition," Spike shrugged. "Nearly everyone does it."

"But _why_?"

To that, neither Chip nor Spike had an answer. At least, not much of one.

"It's how we celebrate Christmas," Chip explained.

"What's Christmas?"

Ironhide didn't like to ask but the thought of a tradition that has someone putting a tree in their place of dwelling did not make sense to him. And he immediately regretted asking because Spike and Chip launched into telling him about a human named Jesus and how it was his birthday that they were celebrating. It only confused him more but, rather than say so, Ironhide listened to what they said and pretended that he understood. In the end, he decided to his own research on the matter.

Twenty-two breems later, he was sitting in front of Teletran-One with a monster of a headache. It had been the longest twenty-two breems of his life and Teletran showed no signs of stopping with the information that it had gathered on Christmas.

"Ironhide, what are you doing here? You're on leave," Prime exclaimed as he walked into the command center.

"Doing some research," Ironhide murmured tiredly.

"On what?"

"Christmas."

"The human custom?"

Ironhide merely nodded at that, a feeling of discontent slowly rising in him. Picture upon picture showed human families gathered around fireplaces and Christmas trees or around tables, consuming huge quantities of food. The festivities looked to be rather joyous and Ironhide knew that he should be glad that such thing existed but he wasn't. Instead, he was tired, worn out, irritated, and, though he wouldn't admit it, a bit depressed.

"Finding anything of interest?"

"No. Just a bunch of pictures," Ironhide grumped before he got up and walked out. Before he was out of range, he heard Jazz ask, "What's up with him?"

Ironhide didn't wait to hear the answer.

_Three days later . . ._

Ironhide transformed out of his vehicle mode, muttering curses in Cybertronian. He hated snow, hated driving in it, and yet what was he doing? Trying to drive in the white, wet stuff in an effort to get back to the Ark!

"Need some help?" a feminine voice asked, a hint of amusement in her tone.

Ironhide had been so wrapped up in his thoughts that he hadn't heard anyone approaching. Looking around, he saw a young human female standing not that far away from him.

She wasn't very tall, as humans went, maybe around five foot three. Her blonde hair was pulled back and her brown eyes seemed to sparkle in amusement. But at least she was dressed for the cold weather.

"Weather's too slaggin' cold," he muttered. "Snow's a pain to drive in."

"You think it's bad here," she chuckled, "try driving in Michigan! Oregon doesn't get nearly as much snow as Michigan. Snow's a big industry there."

"How nice," he said dryly, walking towards her. "Who are you and what're you doing out here all by yourself?"

"My name's Torie Cronkhite and I came to see if you needed some help," she responded, stepping in line with him. "You kinda look like you need someone to talk to."

"Ain't in the mood to talk," he grumbled, absently scooping her up.

"I can understand that," she nodded. "Just thought I'd ask, though. Everyone needs someone to talk to every now and then."

Ironhide grunted but didn't say anything. Fortunately, for a while, neither did she.

"You know what I like about this time of year?" she asked suddenly. "No. Of course, you don't. We just met. But I'll tell you anyway. It's the feeling."

"The feeling?" Ironhide echoed, surprise in his tone. He had been ready to tell her to be quiet but she took him by surprise when she had said "the feeling."

"Yeah. The feeling. It's not something that I can truly describe. No amount of words can describe it. It's like a happiness in a way. And I love being with my family around the holidays. Even though they do depress me with their ways."

"Now that's something I never thought I'd hear," he remarked, still trudging through the snow.

"I know. But I've found that I'm slowly changing," she explained. "I'm becoming happier in my life and learning that, just because someone can no longer be with you, doesn't mean that that person isn't there."

"What?"

Ironhide stopped dead in his tracks. Had he heard that correctly?

"I said that I'm learning that, just because someone is gone, doesn't mean that that person is truly gone. Not so long as we love them. That's what this season is really about: love and the miracle of life. It's also a time of giving. The greatest gift you could ever give someone is your love."

"Even if that someone is believed to be dead?" Ironhide asked quietly.

"Especially if that someone is dead. Many people believe that December 25th is Jesus Christ's birthday and many claim to love him. So they celebrate. Other religions have celebrations around this time of year as well, but it really comes down to the same thing: showing the people we love that we love them. Yes, the giving of gifts is nice but it's not actual love. It's a way to show your love. Think about it," she stated quietly.

As he stood there, Ironhide thought about it and about why he was so irritated with this Christmas holiday. It was because of Chromia and how he wanted her to be there with him. It was beginning to make some sense to him.

He was so lost in thought that he didn't hear the three Decepticon Seekers coming at him until they were practically in his face . . .

Ironhide groaned as he opened his optics. He felt as if he'd been used as Megatron's punching bag. As he was coming to with the thought of the Decepticon leader in his mind, he remembered the human that had been with him. Ironhide bolted upright, panic and concern etched in his face.

"Easy there, Ironhide, easy," Ratchet cautioned as he rushed over to him. "You've been offline for a few Earth hours. Just try to relax."

"But," Ironhide protested, "there was a human with me . . ."

Ratchet suddenly had this guilty look on his face.

"You mean Torie Cronkhite?"

"Yeah . . . What happened, Ratchet? Where is she? Is she all right?" Ironhide demanded.

"She's safe, Ironhide. Quite safe, actually," Optimus stated as he walked into Repair Bay. Ironhide looked at him and saw relief flooding his optics. He also saw puzzlement there. "You mentioned her name before you went offline so we searched for her with Teletran's help. I'm wondering how the child got here and then back home as she did. . . "

"Child? Prime, she's an adult," Ironhide interrupted, swinging his legs off of the medical bed. "I saw her with my own optics. Even carried her."

"Ironhide, you couldn't have," Ratchet said gently. "The human you mentioned is a seven-year-old child living in a small town called Cadillac, Michigan."

Ironhide stopped, confusion sweeping through him. Had the human that he had seen been nothing more than a delusion from the cold? He was starting to think so when he remembered something from his research. Christmas had been the time of a great miracle. According to most humans, a child had been born and he carried with him the power to save an entire race from itself. Granted, this belief was only among three of the major Earthen religions but it was a belief nonetheless. And humans put a great deal of faith in belief. And miracles, to the humans, had been known to happen, especially around this time of year. Ironhide took comfort in that thought and in the fact that he _knew_ Autumn had been there with him.

"Ironhide, are you all right?"

"Yeah," Ironhide nodded as he slid off of the bed. "Feelin' fine."

"Good," Ratchet nearly smirked. "You're to go to your quarters and get some rest. Your little skirmish with the Decepticons had been rather nasty."

"I don't need to rest, Ratchet," Ironhide snorted. "Got plenty of that. But," he added, "I will be in my quarters if anyone needs me. Got some stuff to think about."

With that, Ironhide left Repair Bay.

_December 24, 1984_

Ironhide sat on a rock precipice, listening to the sounds of celebration going on inside the Ark. His comrades in arms had wanted to have a celebration for the Earthen holiday and had been allowed to have it. He had been invited, of course, but he had gone outside instead. The noise was a bit too much for an old timer such as himself.

As he sat down, he became aware of a feeling. It was a feeling that he was no longer alone but he figured he knew who the presence belonged to. He smiled.

"Thank you, Chromia. I wish you the best, wherever you are."

For the first time in his life, a feeling of serenity washed over him and a sense of happiness. He began to understand what Autumn had been talking about. It finally felt like Christmas.

Finis


End file.
